


A Piece of Parchment

by DLanaDHZ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-20
Updated: 2008-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLanaDHZ/pseuds/DLanaDHZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco receives an odd piece of enchanted parchment. When he finally begins to use it, he may learn a bit about himself and reveal a few things he normally wouldn't in a search to discover who's at the other end of the notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a night class and I saw my friend passing notes to the girl on the other side of her...and this story idea wouldn't stop bugging me.

It was a normal, uneventful day in the most uneventful place in the world. That's right. It was morning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course, this is a sarcastic remark. Nothing at Hogwarts, or anywhere else in the wizarding world could be considered 'uneventful.' As Draco Malfoy, sixteen years old and proud as ever, walked down the grand marble staircase that morning, he noted just how not uneventful it was.

Students were rushing into the great hall, wanting to make sure they got seats next to their best friends. Girls stood in little bunches all around the entrance hall and the great hall, all in separate cliques, and yet they were all discussing the same subjects. Half were concerned with tests or classes they were more or less failing, all the other girls were watching all the other guys they thought were hot stuff and giggling about it like a bunch of erklings(1). However, Draco didn't find such laughter attractive at all, unlike his fellow Slytherins who would nearly jump off cliffs to go talk to a girl who giggled at them.

Older students were walking into the great hall as if they didn't want to rush in like the others. Draco knew they were no better than the rest. What got under his skin most about these prissy older students and retarded younger ones was the way they tried hiding in corners, like no one could see them, and snogged until they passed out from suffocation.

Yes. Draco Malfoy hated that. Someone wiser would have told him it was because he had no one to snog with. However, Draco would never tell anyone about how much it pissed him off, so no older wizard would have the chance.

Crabbe shoved Goyle lightly.. Well it was probably harshly, but they were both so bulky you couldn't tell. Goyle stumbled to the left and bumped into one of the erklings mentioned earlier. He grunted and pushed her, causing the whole group to go sprawling to the ground in an echo of cries and complaints. The two bumbling oafs just continued into the great hall. Draco lowered his gaze, an upset frown on his face. He didn't know it, but someone was watching him. In a graceful manner only Draco Malfoy could pull off, the pureblood male raised his hand up and his head down. His fingers drifted over his hair as his head rolled back up to a normal position. It pushed any strands out of place back into order. His eyes followed the rolling of his head and seemed to roll up, causing his eyelids to raise as well. He was one flowing movement. His eyes swam over the tables until his attention was drawn to his own. Oh those brilliant blue-gray eyes.

The magical moment, that Draco was not privy to know was going on, ended as Draco changed his course and headed for his spot at the Slytherin table. As though breakfast had only been waiting on the Malfoy son to sit, Dumbledore stood and addressed them all. Slackers in the hall hurried in to get to their seats. Draco's eyes raised from his hands, below the table, to watch the headmaster. His hair fell gently into his eyes, barely even long enough to do so. Even to Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore was an amazing man. He talked big about how he hated the guy, but he actually never admired anyone as much as he admired Dumbledore.

After a few brief words, like clockwork, food sprang to life on the plates before them. Draco grinned at the food, unaware that he was being watched. He reached forward and grabbed himself a bread roll and some toast. Draco would make his way through eggs and bacon by the time he was done, but the breads seemed to be closer. Something seemed to be lifted from Draco and the blonde paused. He looked around the tables. He'd felt someone staring at him, finally. He didn't feel it anymore, however, so they'd probably stopped. It didn't feel like a Slytherin so who could it have been?

With a screech, all eyes were drawn to the ceiling. Hundreds of owls flew in from the windows and swooped in low over everyone's heads. One tried to grab a student's hair and barely missed. In great circles, they flew around until they spotted the one their package or letter was meant for. Draco searched for his owl, wondering if he had any mail. Alas, he could not spot a Malfoy owl amongst the bunch, and he had seeker eyes now. Across the hall, Harry Potter's snowy owl landed before him and presented him with two letters: a daily prophet and a message from Mrs. Weasley about his Christmas present possibly arriving late.

Draco turned his eyes back to the food and started to engage Pansy in conversation until an owl dropped a rolled up letter into his lap. What the heck? Draco lifted the khaki paper. It was tied in a single red string to keep it from unraveling during transport. Draco slid the string from the paper and stashed it in his pocket. The letter rolled open to reveal... absolutely nothing. Someone had sent Draco Malfoy a completely blank piece of paper.

No. No joke. Not one little word was on it. Not in the corners, not written in pencil, not on the back. Nowhere. What kind of stupid idiot came up with this idea?

"Goyle, you can have this," Draco grunted, tossing it to his 'friend'. Goyle lit up like some kind of spell had told him to be unbearably happy. Draco winced and looked back at his food.

He took another bite of his butter laden toast and began to listen to Pansy rant on about some stupid girl thing he could care less about, but it had something to do with his hair and how she'd heard someone say he shouldn't use gel. She suggested he leave it fluffy but use some designer shampoo on it and the same conditioner. Like I said, he didn't care.

Suddenly, Goyle gasped and fell over out of his spot.

"What the devil's the matter with you, Goyle?" Draco asked harshly. What was wrong with the idiot now?

Goyle thrust the blank parchment back into Draco's hands and sat as far from Draco as he could once he'd sat back down at all. Draco eyed Goyle curiously and then looked down at the paper. What was so damn special about it? Oh... Etched onto the paper, in dark black ink, as if it had just been written, was the name 'Draco Malfoy'.

(1): Erklings are creatures with high pitched laughter that enchants children. Erklings eat children. I got this creature from Harry Potter Lexicon's Fantastic Beasts list.


	2. Chapter 2

So that was creepy. It wasn't everyday you received a creepy letter in the mail. Draco stared at his pocket. After breakfast, he'd quickly folded the paper and put it in his pocket. Pansy had been curious, asking a bunch of silly questions that Draco didn't answer. Draco didn't answer because Draco didn't know what the answer was. Crabbe was out of the loop because Goyle refused to talk about it, and Draco told him to go stick his head in a toilet. Knowing him, he just might actually do that.

Now, sitting in potions, Draco had it laid out on the table beside him. He was sitting on the edge of the table, something Malfoy hardly ever did. Usually he sat near the center, wanting to be noticed and up front. Not today. He had a mystery to solve and didn't want to be yelled at while he solved it.

This mystery had several questions. 1, who sent the stupid paper? 2, what exactly did the paper do? And 3, why was it given to him?... and 4 was just a curious 'Why does it say my name and nothing else?'...

After a good half an hour in class, in which Draco did his work but continuously glanced at the darn paper, Draco decided to try an idea out. He took the quill he'd been taking notes with and wrote 'Who is this?' on the paper under his name.

His name dimmed but did not vanish. Under what Draco had written, he watched as letters were scribbled out one by one. This was fantastically interesting.

'That's not really important,' the letters spelled. Draco glared at the paper.

'And just what is the purpose of this annoying piece of paper?' he scribbled quickly.

There was a pause in which he got no response, and then the ink began to appear once again.

'I don't know.'

'What do you mean you don't know? This is such a fucking waste of time!' Draco wrote back.

'Watch your language, Draco Mal-' But Draco stuffed the paper away before the letter finished appearing. Somehow they reminded him of his father talking.

Snape glanced a glare off Draco as made such a fuss of putting paper away. The blonde teen glared right back. He had a bad temper right now, and it was all because of some stupid enchanted paper. Draco was going to be pissed if it wasn't even a person writing on the other side. That would me Draco Malfoy had been fooled into talking to himself for at least six minutes by now.

Draco did his best to concentrate and not think about the stupid paper in his bag. He worked with Pansy on the potion, which meant he was doing most of the work. She really was hopeless in this class. Crabbe and Goyle fumbled over their own potion beside the two. They almost spilled it twice and Draco felt sorry for their parents... or not. He'd met their families, and he felt more sorry for the kids. Draco glanced away to where Harry Potter was dropping something into a pot that seemed to stink up the area immediately around it. Harry looked rather funny with his nose scrunched up and standing as far from the cauldron as possible.

Snape came by at the end of class and looked down his huge nose at Draco and Pansy's potion. Draco crossed his arms and waited for the verdict.

"Five points from Slytherin. Malfoy, perhaps next time it would come out right if you weren't writing letters in my class," Snape scolded. Those in the vicinity snickered behind their hands but would never laugh openly at the Malfoy heir. Malfoy was awe struck. He'd never heard Snape deduct points from his own house!

Draco grabbed his stuck, the paper poking up from it like an omen. He grumbled and called Crabbe and Goyle to attention as he left the room. He passed Potter and friends on his way and briefly heard Snape say something about it being nearly perfect before he was out of the classroom. His day was getting worse and worse.

At least his next class wasn't filled with Gryffindors. Draco was able to parade around the room like a well groomed pony the entire time and no one thought any different of it. It was Professor Binns, which he hated more than a wild doxy bite but he could play it off otherwise. Draco acted all big and tough, but as the ghost of a teacher drawled on, Draco dropped interest. He mulled around the entire time and looked around the room. No gryffindors meant no Potter to see. Well darn. There went all his entertainment for the next two hours. Transfiguration couldn't come soon enough.

Binns talked about some test. That always confused him. How come the other ghosts couldn't touch things and yet they turned in work to a ghost? How was he supposed to grade it or return it? So, obviously, Draco wasn't paying attention to the professor ghost. He must have missed something somehow important, because he was the only person who didn't stand up and rush from the room. Class was over?

Yes! That meant it was time to see Po- go to Transfiguration class!

Draco walked briskly, his goons following close behind. He heard their dumb voices but not what they said. Something about him slowing down... Fat lards. Get in shape. The classroom for Transfiguration was just beginning to fill when they arrived, thanks to Draco's fast feet. Draco slammed him books down on the table and heads flew up to watch him. Draco was proud to say he'd managed to raise even Potter's head. Usually, Harry went on with business because he knew it was Draco or because he was distracted... or he wasn't there.

Harry arranged his books on his desk to pass time and Draco copied him. Harry turned his head when Hermione whispered to him and began to talk to her. Draco finally listened to what Goyle was saying.

"So... What happened to that... you know, that paper?" he asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

"What do you think I did with it?" Draco asked as though it were obvious.

"You gave it to a teacher," Crabbe spoke up.

"No, you idiot. I'm not a pansy Hufflepuff. I'm not scared of a bit of parchment either," Draco added to Goyle, who cast his eyes elsewhere in shame. "It's in my bag. It hasn't done anything since writing my name. Rather boring actually."

"Oh... that's stupid..." Goyle huffed, turning to his mess of books in front of him. McGonagall called attention to the head of the class.

'You have no idea,' Draco thought and rolled his eyes again. As he pulled out his wand for class, he cast one more curious look at the boy who lived.


	3. Chapter 3

Long story short, Draco was having a bad day. First, he gets that stupid piece of talking paper. Then his potion doesn't work, then he basically sleeps through History of Magic, then he can't even properly turn a banana into an apple... he kept getting lemons and pears. Now it was well after lights out and he couldn't get to sleep. His sheets felt like they were purposely tying around him the wrong way, and he couldn't get comfortable anywhere.

Finally, Draco tossed the covers off and sat up. He gave up... Plus, curiosity was eating at him. Draco slipped out of bed and pulled on his slippers. Don't laugh. You needed those in the dungeons or you might as well head to Pomfrey cause you had pneumonia. Anyway, Draco grabbed his school bag and made his way into the common room. He sat down at the table there by the fireplace and sluggishly pulled out the enchanted parchment.

'Alright, paper boy. Talk to me,' he wrote.

He didn't really expect a response if the person was an actual person. It was late, and they would probably be sleeping. However, after only a minute of waiting, ink formed words on the page.

'Yes?'

Draco was shocked to see the words, but he was glad for the company all the same.

'Did I wake you up?'

'Sort of. But it's fine.'

'So you're human after all?' Draco asked.

'Yes.'

Somehow, the words just seemed cryptic when it answered in simple ways.

'You go to Hogwarts as a student?' Draco asked.

'Of course.' Why did they say that? It made it sound like they thought it was an obvious thing.

'So how does this paper work?' Draco paused. 'And why me?'

'I created my own spell specifically to make this paper and its direct copy. When you write on it, I see it, and when I write on it, you see it. It's like a covert way of passing notes. I also made sure that even if I'm asleep the paper will bounce up and hit me in the head if you write me. As for why you... Well I guess you just seemed like you needed someone to talk to.'

'Ah'

Draco drummed his fingers on the table. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. That was an awful lot of work just to talk to Draco... Oh well. He could use this person to vent.

Draco bent over the parchment and began to just write out all the issues he had with life right now. All about potions, history, and transfiguration. He wrote about how stupid Crabbe and Goyle were, how frilly and annoying the girls in the school were, and even about how Pansy Parkinson's voice hurt his head. She pet his hair and always complimented him on how soft it was, even though everyone could tell it was either greased back or gelled and in no way soft.

'And the worst part of my day I think is watching stupid Harry Potter excel at everything I've failed at today,' Draco finished writing. He looked up at his long rant of words and wrinkled his nose. He'd never been this open before.

His words took up so much space that there wasn't room for the other speaker so they vanished as soon as the other male started responding. Usually the previous words would remain until Draco wrote again so they could refer back to what was said, or so he assumed.

'Well maybe Potter can help you,' the crafty penmanship suggested.

'What?' Draco replied. The hell did that mean?

'You said he's doing well in all the places you aren't, so maybe you should ask him for help,' the paper clarified. Draco's lips pressed together.

'No.'

'But he's a good student and he has Hermione Granger backing him up. He can help you.'

'No. I can't ask Potter for help,' Draco replied, hoping the forceful voice he would have used to convey these words would reach through the paper and show the other person that No was No and nothing would change it.

'Why not?' It asked.

Draco couldn't answer. He didn't want to. Sure, he'd revealed some pretty broad things to this paper already, but nothing too personal. To explain the deep ravine between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would talk time and patience... and Draco didn't feel like telling this random stranger why he couldn't bring himself to ask Harry for help.

'Stupid Slytherins and your pride,' the paper scolded.

'Oh shut up! I don't have to explain myself to some coward hiding behind paper and ink! I'm going to bed' Draco replied angrily, his handwriting becoming more scribbled than actually written.

Once again, Draco stuffed the paper into his bag. He stared at it for a second. He was glad his paper didn't stand up and smack him in the face. That would be horrible. Draco, still angry, grabbed his bag and headed back into the bedroom. He tossed his bag to the foot of his bed, not caring if he disturbed others anymore. One or two stirred but none woke. Draco slipped off his shoes and slipped under his covers. There, he forced himself to release his anger and go to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

It was morning before Draco opened his eyes. He was so glad for the sleep. He wouldn't know how to deal with bags under his eyes. Especially around all the people in his classes and... well Potter might say something, and he didn't need that's boy's pity. However, as he watched his fellow students sluggishly wake up and get their things together. Malfoy finished rather quickly. Despite having minimal sleep, he was still faster than the others. He waited impatiently by the door as his goons ran into bed posts and fell over pulling on their pants.

"Will you two hurry it up?" he complained.

"Y-Yeah.." Crabbe droned out as he stuck his right arm into his left arm slot. Goyle was wearing his shirt inside out and Malfoy didn't give a shit either way, as long as they got up and ready.

He'd been thinking about that letter, that paper, and what it had said to him. Ask Potter for help? That had to be blasphemy for his family, for his house. He couldn't possibly actually ask Potter for help, right?... Not to mention... Never mind.

Draco rolled his eyes at Crabbe and Goyle. They were hopeless. He left the doorway to the dorm rooms and exited the dungeons. They'd find him later.

Later being the first class of the day, Transfiguration with the Gryffindors.

Ask Potter for help, eh?

Draco found himself watching Harry across the room. Ask him for help? He couldn't. Even if he walked over there... what would he say? 'Hey. Sorry for being such an ass to you for the last 5 years of your life. Can you help me with this spell?' Yeah right.

Harry was laughing with Hermione and Ron, although Hermione seemed to understand what was funny much more than Ron. Stupid weasel. Draco raised one eyebrow as he watched. Harry's wand lifted and swayed and flicked. His hand was held loosely, but not limply. His arm was nearly perfectly straight... and his body was- um... anyway, the wand was held securely between his first finger, held in place by the thumb on the other side and his middle finger folded back - almost like how you'd hold a pencil or a quill of sorts.

Ask Potter for help?... Use Potter for help.

Draco held his wand in imitation of Harry Potter's. He made sure everything was exactly the same and swung the wand in the same fashion. Then, he smirked his lips and casually spoke the spell. In an instant, his teacup became a dove. Draco smiled brilliantly, being watched by the entire class. Professor McGonagall walked over and nodded.

"Fine work, Mr. Malfoy," she complimented. Oh he hated being called that. It reminded him of his father.. Plus, the old hag's lips and face in general always creeped him out. She was sooo old! A lot of these stupid teachers were old.

After class, Draco excused himself from his posse and pulled out the paper. He scribbled down his message and waited.

'I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have gotten so angry.' he wrote. He waited, biting his lip.

'Don't worry about it. It's alright.' the parchment replied.

'By the way, you were right. Potter helped me out.'

'He did? How?'

'I watched how he performed the spell in transfiguration class and I sort of copied him.' Draco admitted. Who would've guessed a Malfoy would copy someone else?

'Well good job,' was the congratulatory message.

'Hey, are you a boy?' Draco asked, noticing he was beginning to be the only one not heading to the herbology class.

'Does it matter?'

Draco saw Potter and pals walking out the front doors. Harry passed a piece of paper to Hermione.

'Not particularly.'

Draco hurried his way out the doors before they closed. It was hard to write and walk. He walked several feet behind the gryffindor trio. He didn't want to seem like he was stalking them or anything. By Harry was interesting to watch nonetheless. The way his shoulders bounced or his head lowered when the ground shifted... Draco shook his head and looked down at the parchment.

'Draco, do you like boys?' it read. Well that was an odd question.

'Huh?' was all he could write while walking.

'Do you 'like' boys?' it said, it's handwriting a little messier than usual. He got the idea, however. Draco paused and considered it. How should he answer?

'Would you think differently of me?' he asked.

'No. You like who you like, right?' it replied. Draco nodded.

'Right.'

He entered the Herbology classroom and took a seat by Pansy and Goyle. Pansy was bust chatting with her friends while Goyle was still sleeping. Neither would bother him and the parchment. The rest of the class might have been getting ready for something or someone, but Draco wasn't paying attention. He was watching his paper.

'So?' it asked, urging him to answer the question and clarify what his preference was.

Draco thought about it. He smirked a little. The answer was obvious and right in front of his face. Of course, the only thing keeping him from writing it was worry. Would this person use something he said against him? He was either a fag or homophobic. Neither was too hopeful for the future... but there hadn't been any new rumors about Draco from anything else he'd told this paper so...

'Yes.'


	5. Chapter 5

It was about half a week later, and Draco had yet to hear any rumors pop up about him.. about anything he'd told the paper. There was a rumor that Draco was siccing hell hounds on first years, but that was totally preposterous. Draco didn't even own a dog, much less a hell hound. Hell hounds didn't exist anyway.

While Slytherin after Slytherin passed him and nodded to him, Draco just kept looking back at himself in the mirror. He was wearing his normal school robes along with a thick wool cloak. Christmas was coming soon, but it had yet to snow. It was the start of November, and it was odd to not have any snowfall by now. Although, it was getting chillier and the daily prophet predicted the snow would start any day now.

"We'll see you in class, Draco," Crabbe grunted, also nodding to the blonde teen. Draco shrugged.

Crabbe and Goyle gave him worried looks before finally sauntering out of the common room. Draco paid them no mind. He straightened his cloak on his shoulders and buttoned it up just a bit. The Malfoy heir turned to grab his stuff and raised a curious eyebrow. He pulled the corner of the parchment up because he spotted writing on it.

'Draco, who do you like?' it read.

Well that was a very personal question... not that the others hadn't been... But Draco didn't answer. He pushed the parchment back into his bag and swung the bag over his shoulder. Time for class.

Harry Potter was in the owlry, feeding a treat to his beautiful snowy owl, Hedwig. She chirruped and bobbed her head. Then she nuzzled him as a thanks. With a low cry, the owl took off from it's perch and flew out the window. Harry hurried outside for one last look at her. She dove low over the grounds, and Harry sighed out gently. He loved magic and Hogwarts. He pulled his winter coat closer over his body and shuffled down the frozen steps. He nearly slipped on a patch of ice but managed to catch himself in time. That wouldn't have been pretty.

As Harry stepped onto the grass, something fell in front of his eyes. Snow! Harry looked up into the sky and laughed. It was finally snowing! Draco Malfoy walked out of the front door to the grounds and paused. Snow? He looked around the grounds at all the students stopping to see the snow. One in particular caught his attention. Harry Potter stood at the bottom of the stairs to the owlry, smiling and trying to catch the snow in his hands.

Idiot. It would melt. And yet, Draco couldn't take his eyes off Harry. He moved off the steps so he didn't block traffic and merely watched. Harry looked simply wonderful, surrounded by falling snow. He watched as Harry's owl fluttered down and landed on his shoulder. It was just a very movie-esque scene. Draco felt like he would hit some screen if he tried to touch the scene. And yet he felt his hand reaching forward. There was no way his arm would reach across the courtyard to the mystical scene, but his hand still started to reach his fingers out. Why couldn't he have such a life, such a presence?

Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley ran past Draco, nearly knocking him over. They hurried over to Harry. Hedwig hooted and flew off quickly, disappearing into the now white sky. The unimportant friends of Potter spoke happily with him. He smiled brilliantly and nodded to them. Then, in one instant rush, they turned and hurried off. For a moment, Draco thought Harry had locked eyes with him, but it was probably a trick of his eyes. Draco often made eye contact with people he didn't intend to look at.

Draco put down his hand and sauntered off through the snow to Care of Magical Creatures. He'd see Harry there again. He'd probably do something fantastic by complete accident and stun everyone. He was so accidentally wonderful. Draco would never admit it out loud, but he was only annoyed by Harry being so admired because it took the focus off him, took Harry's eyes off him. So he stood out even more to regain the attention. He milked everything for everything. He knew it probably made Harry hate him even more, but Draco would just have to live with the consequences of how he lived. He couldn't help but be the way he was. His raising had put this need for attention in him.

"This class is so stupid...," Crabbe grumbled. When had he taken his spot in between these oafs again?

"Yeah... and Potter is taking all the spotlight again... right Draco?" Goyle asked, trying to get their leader to act normal again.

"Yeah..Right," Draco replied with about half his usual spite. He lowered his eyes to the floor. "Sorry guys... I'm not feeling well today."

"Take it easy, Malfoy. You're father wont like you to get sick," Crabbe fretted. He was only saying it because they'd get in trouble from Malfoy senior if Draco got hurt or sick again.

"Right..." Draco nodded. He was feeling physically fine... it was mentally that he had an issue. God, every time he looked at Harry Potter, he just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide from the world. He wanted to wrap himself up in his bed sheets and hide his face. It was like... he felt unworthy or something. This was not an inferiority complex, this was a sickness.

Draco mulled around, half watching Harry, half looking at the ground, until class was over. He didn't even remember the class. He knew he only felt bad because he was thinking about... IT. If IT hadn't mentioned that question, Draco could have acted completely normal all day.

"So you have any idea what your father will send you for Christmas?" Goyle asked. Crabbe hit him in the chest. "What was that for?" Goyle growled. Crabbe snorted and Goyle glared. Draco walked to a nearby stump of a table and pulled out his parchment. He wrote slowly on the paper, as if the quill was heavy.

"Malfoy?" Crabbe called in worry. Draco nodded, putting the paper away. "What are you always writing about?"

"Nothing," Draco replied, standing up straight. "Come on. We'll be late."

Harry Potter was trudging through the fresh fallen snow with his two best friends. Ron was complaining about needing to rewrite some assignment for Snape so it was neat. Apparently, Snape had deducted points for sloppiness last time.

"Can I borrow a piece of parchment, Harry? I'll pay you back later... but I used all mine writing Trelawny's paper," the red head whined.

"No problem," Harry laughed. He quickly pulled two pieces of parchment up out of his things. However, not watching where he was stepping, he slipped and fell back onto the ground. The papers went flying, his other things falling into the snow beside him. Shit. Now they'd be damp.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked, helping his best friend stand. Hermione quickly grabbed the papers that had gone flying before they hit the ground. She let out a sigh of relief and her eyes glanced over the papers.

"I'm alright. I'm alright," Harry assured, brushing the light flakes of snow off his clothes.

"Good thing the snow isn't deep yet," Ron chuckled, bending down to get Harry's stuff.

"Harry.. Look at this," Hermione whispered, handing Harry back the two pieces of paper. The top one had words written on it. Harry smiled.

"I know."

The paper read 'Draco, who do you like?'

'Harry Potter. I'm in love with Harry Potter.'


	6. Chapter 6

Initiate mission 'Discover the Wizard with the Other Piece of Parchment'...

Draco Malfoy was getting a little tired of telling this paper such personal information and... well, and not knowing who exactly was reading it! It could be someone storing up the information in one giant 'blackmail Malfoy' plan or it could be someone with evil intent, planning to use Harry against Draco in a fig-... okay, so Draco was no fantasy book hero so no evil villain would use Harry like a damsel in distress to taunt him... but still.

Over the next week, Draco Malfoy watched everyone in all his classes, trying to avoid looking at Harry too long. He paid special attention to Harry's friends. Harry and Hermione seemed to be passing a depressingly large amount of notes. Draco wished he could pass that many notes to Harry.

Anyway, Draco tried to see who was a possible suspect. It had to be someone who was in their year, probably in his classes more than in Harry's, although either would probably work. That didn't lower the list like... at ALL! There were dozens of people in their classes, from all the houses. Well he should focus on the one's he had with Harry. That at least lowered it to just Slytherins and Gryffindors.

Next, they obviously knew Harry and Hermione were good friends and that Hermione was a genius and that Harry was... was good but not perfect... That also didn't shorten the list. EVERYONE knew that. Okay, coming up with suspects was harder than he thought. What else did he have to go with?

The person themself had to be rather smart. To make a spell like this would take some serious creativity and brains. Hermione Granger had the brains, but he doubted she'd be creative enough to come up with it on her own. Well if she were going to make such a spell for someone, it would be Harry or Weasel... and probably noone else.

Who else was a brainiac and could do something like this? Well, anyone could if they took the time and practice it required. Still, he was banking on Hermione Granger. She'd been mentioned by the parchment person so she had a good chance of being involved. So who was the actual writer?

Was it Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley?

Well, he'd liked to believe it was Harry because he liked Harry, but it might be Ron. It was weird to think that the weasel might be trying to set him up with Harry. Now... Harry setting him up with Harry was no issue, but Draco still disliked the freckle covered red head... that ginger child. He wasn't too keen on the Granger girl either, but she wasn't so bad to look at sometimes and she was truly bright... however annoying that could become. She was definitely a good match for anyone... who wasn't gay or Harry Potter. Even if Potter was straight, Draco would never accept him being married to the mudblood... or probably to any female... ever.

Draco watched as Hermione and Harry passed a note back and forth. Every time Weasley tried to look at it, they pretended it wasn't there. He was obviously out of the loop on something... Something? So did that something involve an enchanted piece of parchment? Draco watched Harry glance over at him a view times. Harry was definitely the writer on the other side of the parchment... He just had to be.

But if Harry knew how Draco felt.. Why wasn't he doing anything? If he liked Draco too, he should say something... or kiss him. If he didn't, then he should get angry or adopt a distasteful look during those glances. But he did neither... why?!

It drove Draco crazy as he thought about it. But the only way to find out if Harry Potter was the other writer was to ask him... preferably alone. When would Harry not be flanked by adoring students, annoying teachers, or his best friends? Why of course, it was the one thing Harry and Draco both enjoyed and could do at the same time in only a day.

The last Quidditch match before Christmas: Gryffindor vs Slytherin. Weasley was on the team too, but hopefully he'd be too distracted after the game. Gryffindor was going to win. Draco knew this. He wasn't going to be able to concentrate enough, and Harry was an amazing seeker.

So when the game started the next day, Draco only had eyes for Harry. His captain figured he was letting Harry do all the work in finding the snitch first. Draco could care less about that twittering, fluttering, buzzing annoyance of a golden ball. Still, he had to at least appear to be trying.

Draco's eyes scanned the field, the sky, the dirt by the hoops, the stands. He caught glimpses of Harry every once in a while in there, floating around and calling out things to his team if he had to. Harry always did get too caught up in watching the game. Draco dove down a bit as a bludger headed for his head. Then he rolled to the side as it happened again. Damn those Gryffindor beaters!

Draco's head snapped up when he head it, loud in his ear. That unmistakable buzz of the snitch. He turned his head to the side, where it was sitting beside him. It acted like a miniature person, standing by Draco and watching the game with him. It didn't even try to move away as Draco stared at it in awe. He reached his hand up to snatch it and the realization that it was next to a seeker suddenly sunk in. The snitch took off like a bolt of lightening with Draco hot on its trail. Harry noticed and just slid right into the chase.

Draco suddenly felt the begrudging rivalry coming into play, his stupid male ego and need to win. Draco leaned forward on his broom to speed up, pulling ahead of Harry. Harry imitated him and they were locked into a speed battle, following the snitch in the oddest circles and spirals it had ever done to his knowledge.

Draco reached his hand out to grab the golden ball. Harry did the same. Both their hands inched forward, ever closer to grasping the prize in their hands. Harry swayed on his path, at least... that was the only explanation Draco could come up with for why it happened. Harry's fingers moved over, his whole hand did, and brushed Draco's. Draco's face lit up like a Christmas tree and his broom raised a half an inch in height. The drag created by this simple movement threw him off and he tumbled back and out of the way. With Draco out of the way, Harry had no problems snatching the snitch out of the sky. Draco got control of his broom and brooded.

He was upset that he'd lost. How could he let himself get distracted so easily? And yet he should be happy. As the Gryffindors left the field, Ronald Weasley was nowhere near Harry Potter, who was behind everyone else because he was returning the snitch late.

Perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oy, Potter!" Draco called out. Harry didn't seem to hear him. Bologna. He'd yelled it so there was no way Harry hadn't heard him, and yet the golden boy just kept walking. Well Draco wouldn't stand for that.

Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry indiscreetly. He muttered a charm and Harry's shoe laces instantly tied together and sent the boy tumbling to the dirt, or should I say snow. He heard Harry grunt and his broom rolled an inch away from his hand. Whatever happened, Draco had been successful.

This got Harry even further behind everyone and gave Draco a chance to catch up to him.

"Oy, Potter. Are you ignoring me?" he asked, stopping beside him and crossing his arms. His Quidditch robes hanging loosely on his shoulders.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry asked in a grunt as he untied his shoes and retied them properly.

"I called to you and you kept walking," Draco explained as if really upset about it.

"Maybe I didn't hear you. Ever think of that?" Harry growled a bit as he stood and finally made eye contact with Draco. The blonde's heart beat a beat too quickly and he momentarily felt faint... but it passed just as quick as it had come.

"No. Not possible. Now follow me or I'll curse you into Pomfrey's care for the rest of the year," Draco threatened lightly. Harry would know better than to doubt him... and if Harry felt the way Draco did, it shouldn't matter either way.

Draco led Harry down the side of the field where no one would be, and they could talk freely or... other things. As soon as the sun was blocked by the field and its seats, Draco turned on Harry. He pushed Harry against the wall and kissed him full on the lips. Harry didn't push him away. He just took it as Draco pulled him close.

This had to prove it. The parchment writer was Harry, Draco decided as he remembered what conversation he'd had on that parchment earlier.

Draco scribbled on the paper quickly. He was so sure he knew who the writer was now.

'So who do you like?'

'I like you,' the paper replied.

'The way I like Potter?' Draco asked, wanting to make sure this was right.

'Yes.'

So that meant that if Draco was right in thinking it was Potter... They both liked each other the same way. Right?

That parchment was held in Draco's Qudditch robes. As he pulled Harry closer, it was nudged out and fell open on the ground. Draco pulled away from Harry to check what had fallen. Oh. That didn't matter anymore. Potter was right here so it was useless.

Draco stepped back from Harry, his eyes wide in confusion. Wait, that didn't make any sense. He glanced from the paper to Harry. Harry was there, against the wall, looking dazed, surprised, and a bit dreamy. The paper was on the ground, writing out the words 'Draco, where are you?' in curly letters.

Harry seemed to have recovered from the sudden kiss and regarded Draco with curiosity. It seemed almost as if he was asking why Draco had stopped, or perhaps why Draco had done it in the first place.

"You're... You mean you're not-?" Draco asked, gesturing to the paper on the ground. Harry raised a confused eyebrow, not really understanding the question.

Draco cursed under his breath and snatched up the paper. It wasn't Harry!? Then he just kissed Harry with no proof that the other felt the same way about him! Shit.

"I'm sorry about that, Potter. Forget it ever happened," he ordered with a glare as he trudged away and back to the Slytherin team's 'locker room'.

He heard his name being called behind him, his last name. This wasn't unusual, but he knew that was Harry's voice and wouldn't turn around. He'd just made a complete fool of himself. The paper may not use the information Draco gave it against him, but Potter might... Yes.. Harry Potter might possibly go tell everyone what Draco had just done and ruin him forever. Even if people said they didn't like it, the seed would be there in their minds and no one would look at him the same ever again.

Draco hid away in the locker room after everyone was gone and just sat against the wall. He had changed back into his normal clothes but that was it. He had the parchment open in front of him, between his legs on the ground where he could see it even while he leaned on his arms, laid on his knees.

Draco's eyes were closed despite waiting to get a message from the paper. He hadn't replied to the paper earlier... Maybe it wouldn't talk to him now... when he really wanted to talk to it.

He felt like he'd just ruined everything in one moment of stupidity. He had no proof about the identity of the writer and yet he jumped to the answer he most wanted...and embarrassed himself beyond help.

'Draco, where are you?' the words were rewritten on the paper. The ones from earlier had vanished some time ago. These new words weren't as curly as before. They seemed a little uneasy and maybe worried.

Draco didn't see the words. He wasn't looking for them. He clenched his fists tightly. On the other side of the paper, dots appeared that were not made with ink. It was liquid, but not anything you could write with... and Harry could tell they were a few precious tears that had slipped passed Draco Malfoy's well built defenses in a small time of anxiety and worry.

'Don't cry, Draco,' he wrote. After a moment of no response, but one more tear drop, he added 'Please... don't cry.'


	8. Chapter 8

By the next day, Draco was acting like it never happened. He pretended he hadn't kissed Harry Potter on the Quidditch field, that he hadn't cried out of all the worry he'd felt afterward. Hell, he acted like knowing who the writer was wasn't important. He just went about his day, cracking jokes about stupid people in other houses. At this point, anything not involving Harry Potter would be great.

'Draco, are you okay?'

'Peachy, why?'

'You seem a little tense.'

'I feel better than I have in weeks, so don't worry about me,' Draco wrote on the paper.

'Draco I saw you crying yesterday,' the paper said back, calling Draco out.

'How did you see me crying? I wasn't crying,' Draco scribbled back.

'Your tears came through the parchment,' the paper revealed. 'And did you know you scribble more when you're trying to be tough?'

Draco paused for a moment. He looked at the quill in his hand in slight surprise. He did? Then he let his eyes wander over what was still visible of their conversation. By Merlin, he was right... considering it was a he in the first place. No. Never mind that. Knowing about this person wasn't important.

'So what are you trying to say?' Draco asked the paper.

'I'm trying to say you shouldn't lie to me. We're friends, aren't we?'

Draco paused again to consider this. Were they? He'd told this paper things he hadn't told Crabbe, Goyle, or Blaise... or anyone. In fact, he hadn't spoken much to anyone about anything concerning himself since he'd gotten this paper. It was like his diary. No one thought much of his lack of personal outward thinking because it was Draco Malfoy and certainly he had more interesting things to talk about.

'I suppose we are,' he replied back. 'But we can never be true friends until we both know who the other is. Otherwise there will always be the idea in my head that you are nothing but a piece of talking parchment.'

It sounded a bit harsh, but Draco had to get that out. He wanted to know, god damn it. Forget being tough and putting it in the past. If it wasn't Harry Potter then who the hell was talking to him that was making him reveal everything?!

The parchment stayed silent for quite some time, and Draco was a little worried he'd scared the other writer away. See, it had to be someone else. If it was just paper, it would have already said something... right?

'Christmas is just around the corner,' the parchment replied.

Draco grunted. What a unsubtle way of changing the subject. He put the paper away and decided that, as punishment, he wouldn't talk to it till after dinner. He was eating lunch right now so that was a good seven hours. He could last that long without talking to it. No doubt about it.

Harry Potter laughed a little in the middle of his lunch. Ron was arguing with his brothers and didn't hear the little giggle, but Hermione did. She was smiling from the sibling rivalry, something she'd never had, so to someone else it may look like she was laughing at whatever had made Harry laugh.

"What's so funny?" she asked. Harry smiled back at her.

"I think I made him a littler angry at me," Harry explained. Hermione glanced over at the paper in Harry's hands. She snorted and then instantly covered her mouth. "Nice," Harry replied sarcastically.

"Shut up," she said and hit him lightly in the shoulder.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, listening to Ron tell his brother's to shut up while they picked at him for having a crush on some Hufflepuff girl. It was like some never ending battle when it came to the weasley brothers. Poor Ron, being the youngest boy. Hermione bit her lip after a moment and adopted a more uneasy look.

"Harry-," she began, but Harry put his hand up to stop her.

"Don't say anything," he said as he folded the paper and put it in his bag.

"But it's my fault he's avoiding you now. I had no idea he was going to steal you away. When I couldn't find either of you... I guess I got worried and now I've screwed up everything," Hermione half whined. Harry shook his head.

"I told you not to say anything. Don't worry about it. It's the least of our worries," Harry replied with an easy smile.

"Harry, you're too nice," Hermione said, her face and voice the epitome of guilt and relief mixed in together.

"I know," Harry replied. The way he said it and the way he sighed afterward, it was all Harry sounding like he was some high and mighty drama king. Hermione snickered and hit him again. "Ow, What was that for?" Harry complained.

"Shut up," Hermione replied with a smile. Then she sighed, shook her head, and turned back to Ron. Maybe she could provide some back up.

Harry didn't need Hermione to understand everything. He had a plan with this parchment. Draco had admitted he loved Harry through the paper, and vice versa, but Harry wanted Draco to get up the courage to tell him in real life. The kiss was a good first step, but, at the first sign of uncertainty, Draco had run away. Now Harry just had to play his cards right, and he could be doing a little more than smooching with Draco Malfoy.

And of course, Ron knew nothing about this. Poor guy, being the youngest son.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco couldn't get the words from the parchment out of his head. 'Christmas is just around the corner.' What did it mean? What did Christmas have to do with anything?

'Calm down, Draco. It was just a bad change of subject. And you will NOT take out that parchment and ask about it... at least not until after dinner,' he reminded himself.

Speaking of the parchment, Harry Potter strolled on by with his little band of renegades just at that moment. Hermione Granger regarded him with... was that guilt or pity? No way. He didn't need her pity.

Wait... why would she pity him to begin with? He had no reason to be pitied, least of all by the likes of her! He was Draco Malfoy, after all. Then again, he was trying to change the stereotype that came with that name... at least when it came to how he wanted Harry Potter to feel about him.

Or was it guilt in her eyes? Why would she feel guilty? What could she have to feel guilty about? She had done nothing wrong to him recently, had she? Leaving out any obviously derogatory or unhelpful instances, the only thing that had been done to Draco recently was the whole parchment issue.

Wait a minute. The parchment! If it wasn't Harry Potter writing to him, it must be Hermione Granger. No doubt about it now. She was one of Potter's closest friends!

Maybe he could manage to get her alone, as much as he disliked her, and ask her about Harry and how he took the kiss. If she was the parchment, she'd no doubt want to help him, right? That's why the parchment came to him in the first place. Now he'd just have to get over the idea that he may have been writing to that mu- woman the whole time and that she knew so many secrets about him...

On the other hand, she WAS one of Harry's best friends. If Harry liked him at all, she'd tell him how Draco felt and then... that dazed look in Harry's eyes and the way he didn't fight back against the kiss, before or after.. maybe Harry really did like him back! Wouldn't he have like, cursed or punched Draco in the face if he didn't?

Oh wait again. If Hermione was the author, then... that meant... that she liked Draco just like Draco liked Harry. This wouldn't do at all. He couldn't go talk to her, alone, if she liked him like that. It would be awkward and uncomfortable. Why would she even like Draco? He was never nice to her and treated her like shit. Oh... That's kinda how he treated Harry too... oops.

He'd probably have to work on that. Then again, Draco was avoiding Harry, and gently beginning to treat Harry better would draw a lot of suspicion, and Harry would know it meant more because Draco had already kissed him. It was a lost cause. Either he came out and told Potter that he loved him or he kept silent forever... because there was no in between.

... Maybe he could convince Harry he'd been under the Imperius Curse... Nah. He'd never fall for it.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Goyle glanced over at him and nodded. He so had to agree. Of course, he thought Draco was aggravated because Professor Flitwick had just announced that they had to write and turn in an essay that ran the length of three rolls of parchment. That was a good four pieces of muggle paper, front and back.

Draco could care less about the paper. If he didn't want to write it, he'd get some love sick fangirl to write it for him, or perhaps enchant his quill to just... think for itself and write based on the book. Not that Draco knew how to do that to his quill, but it was a fun idea to play around with. Still, the issue of the imposing need to speak with Hermione Granger was just nagging and eating at his brain. He should get it over with soon just so the thought would leave him alone.

It would be a simple 'are you the writer?' and if she said no, all the better. Leave her confused. If she said yes... well he'd have to get over the fact that she liked him and move on to the important questions... like 'does harry like me' or 'have you told harry what I've told you?'

Draco left his charms class with more than a little essay on his mind. He had a class with Gryffindors next. That meant 1, that he couldn't completely avoid Harry without ditching the class, and 2, he had a chance to consult with Hermione. Oh yippee. He had to gain a backbone for a situation like this between now and the three minutes it would take him to get to his Transfiguration class.

His fellow Slytherins pushed by rather fast and forced him to walk faster, which wasn't helping his cause in the least. Now the trip might take two minutes, if he was lucky. The stairs never seemed so awkward under his feet and he actually tripped on one. Blaise caught him and yelled at the slytherin who'd been passing them when it happened.

Blaise was a good friend. He probably knew Draco had tripped over his own feet and he was still blaming someone else just to keep Draco's pride unharmed. He hoped Granger would be so kind. Speaking of Granger, he spotted her trailing behind Harry as they entered the Transfiguration classroom.

Draco stepped over the threshold of the classroom entrance. There they were, sitting in a little pack of Gryffindors near the back. Draco took a deep breath and sat even farther back than they did. He folded his hands before him. He was shaking. He did not want to talk to her, but he had to. If she wasn't the writer, he was going to feel like an idiot all over again, but he had to.

Draco found himself listening to the parchment during class again. He was watching Harry and imitating him. Sometimes they both got it wrong because of this, but it didn't matter. Draco just enjoyed it the way it was. He thought it was kind of funny. Especially when Harry would complain afterwards or cough if it blew up in his face. Draco tried to make it seem less obvious that he was imitating by not letting his emotions, or his throat, give him away.

By the end of the class, they had both successfully transfigured their projects from leaves to cherries and gotten to eat them as a reward. Draco noted that Harry gave his cherries to Hermione, who thanked him and ate them. So Harry didn't like cherries? That was a good thing to note for later.

As the class was dismissed, Draco hurried outside and hid just out of the way. Students began to yammer on about different things they liked or disliked about the lesson as they filed out of the room. Harry came into view, then Ron and Hermione. Draco swooped past quickly and managed to nab Hermione on the way. He didn't have time to cover her mouth, but, luckily, Ron had burst out laughing at the same time. The fates, it seemed, were on his side.

"Draco?" Hermione asked curiously. When he kept pulling her down the hall, she began to get testy and ripped away from him. "What is your problem?" she asked, rubbing her arm where he'd held on a little too tightly.

"Answer me honestly and straight out, Granger," Draco replied, turning on her. He set the most determined look on his face that she'd ever seen and his tone was in no way condescending.

"O-Okay," Hermione replied. She owned him the truth after ruining him like she had.

"Are you the writer on the other side of the parchment?" he asked, dead serious. Hermione's eyes widened a little as she stared right back. That was a good sign, right? Then her eyes returned to normal, then almost to that piteous look she'd given him earlier. She shook her head, and Draco let out a long, let down sigh.

"Not usually," Hermione finally spoke. Draco's head straightened up, as did his entire body.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he half growled out. Was she or wasn't she?

"I helped invent the parchment, and when he can't take it with him, I take it. I usually don't talk, but I did when you were at the Quidditch match," Hermione explained.

Ah! So Hermione wasn't the one in love with him. It was a guy. And she had been the one who'd written to him during the match! Aha! Draco hid his triumphant feelings inside.

"Who's 'he'?" Draco asked.

"...The one who came up with the idea. Sorry, Draco. I'm sworn to secrecy about the identity of the owner of the parchment," Hermione apologized, but it didn't sound too sorry.

"What if I threatened you?" Draco asked, taking a step closer to Hermione and taking out his wand. Hermione eyed the wand and then looked Draco in the eyes.

"You wouldn't attack me in the middle of the school. There are people all around and everyone knows you hate me already. You'd be the first suspect," she replied.

Draco smirked. She was right... although, with Harry's luck, Harry Potter himself would be the first suspect. And! With his money and his father, Draco would never be pinned with anything, while Harry had nothing to protect him save for an alibi

"Alright. But we will talk later," Draco decided. He nodded curtly to her and strode off towards his next destination, dinner. Shortly after starting to walk, he was joined by his usual following.

This meant there was a good chance Harry was the writer... again. He was a close friend of Hermione's, extremely creative, and he couldn't very well take the parchment with him to Quidditch matches... which would be an opportune moment for Hermione to have possession of it. So maybe he hadn't screwed up his chances with Harry after all! Maybe Harry really did like him the same way!

"Now now, Draco. Don't let yourself get carried away," he scolded himself out loud and chuckled.

"You say something, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked as the whole little Slytherin group meandered down the halls.

"Nope. Nothing. Nothing at all," Draco replied with a smug look, the likes of which could never be surpassed. Crabbe answered with a confused stare but gave up when Draco didn't even look at him. Now that was odd...


	10. Chapter 10

Have you ever been in a situation where you're so sure of something that you're not sure of it at all? Draco was in that sort of situation. He was so sure the parchment writer being Harry that he was actually avoiding him even more. He'd been writing to the parchment again, and it had been two days since he met with Hermione. He was so sure of it, everything pointed to it, and yet he was becoming more and more scared of it.

Draco was certain Harry was on the other side. He was certain Harry liked him. It all seemed so obvious now. Given time to think about it, how often did Harry watch him? How often did Harry fight with him? Yet Harry never hurt him. Harry saved him on more than one occasion. For instance, everyone would have died ten times over if Harry hadn't stopped the Chamber of Secrets or Lord Voldemort... or anything else he'd no doubt done.

Harry was always sending so many vibes and little messages to Draco... it was almost like Harry was some girl. Some love sick girl sending hints to the guy they like, who never gets it until it's shoved in their face. Draco was that kind of guy! He was so blinded by his own interest in Harry, his own feelings, that he'd never noticed all the little signs. And now Harry was getting to the root of the problem, sending his feelings right into Draco's hands.

Draco saw everything now. The little notes Harry had been passing back and forth to Hermione the whole time, it wasn't notes, it was the parchment. He was passing it back and forth between them so no one would become suspicious when a different writing style appeared on the paper. Hermione was his free-all answer, his problem solver. She helped him create the parchment, she helped him keep it secret, she even helped him write on it.

Draco saw everything, and Draco knew everything, and Draco was scared of everything. Harry being the writer meant that he loved Draco the same way Draco loved him. That should be good news, in fact it made Draco happier than receiving his first broomstick, or when he got his first owl, or anything else in the world. He was so happy to hear that Harry liked him too that he even acted like his normal cocky self when around his fellow Slytherins. He couldn't help but show how happy he was. Everyone around figured his father had done something. They had no idea.

Draco wanted to confront Harry, but he was too nervous. Every time Harry came near him, Draco shied away from confrontation. Speaking of which, here he came...

"What are you grinning about, Malfoy?" Harry asked, almost perfectly hiding his curiousness behind a mask of distaste.

"Yea. What new horrible thing has your father done?" Ron asked, not needing to hide any of his dislike.

"Nothing that you're privileged to hear, Weasel-by," Draco replied with a scowl.

He moved past Harry and his friends quickly, followed by Crabbe and Goyle like little lost ducklings. Ron huffed and hurried on down the hall. Hermione glanced at Harry and then went after Ron to calm him down. Harry was watching him, and Draco could feel it now. He hadn't looked at Harry or said anything to him, and that was probably confusing Harry just like all the other times. Oh, but Draco's mind never let it end there...

"Draco?" Harry called out. Draco paused in his walk.

"What?" he asked.

"Why haven't you asked me?" Harry inquired. Neither moved closer to the other.

"I'm afraid," Draco confessed.

"Of what?" Harry asked. Draco turned to look at the golden boy.

"What does it mean? What's going to happen? What if it's all better as a dream and a secret romance? I don't think I'm ready to lose that," Draco said, barely able to breathe but speaking strongly. Then Draco turned back and walked off with Crabbe and Goyle who hadn't even been there just now.

Yes... Draco's mind never let things end with him walking away like some sort of coward and Harry not stopping him like what was happening now. Harry turned away without saying a word and went to his class. Draco shuffled off with his lackeys. What was wrong with them? Why couldn't they talk? Why couldn't they tell each other how they felt in person?

Because, obviously, they had reputations. They were both guys. They were surrounded by people who wouldn't understand. They were both waiting for the other to say something first, and... and Draco was a coward. He was a normal, frightened, little boy under all his talk. He needed Harry to come help him off the sinking mass that was his pride.

As it stood, Draco was sitting, alone, under a tree. His house mates were in the dungeons, doing their homework, or in the library, studying. Draco was under this tree doing neither. He had no homework to do and no tests coming up that he wasn't ready for. So he was here, staring at a book with his parchment open beside him. It was held open by another book, Quidditch Through The Ages, which also kept it from flying away. The books were just for show, of course. He wasn't really reading either of them. After a while, Draco sat upright and pulled the parchment onto his lap, laid on top of his book.

Those familiar scratchy black letters were etching their words into his parchment. Draco looked around him, but he knew Harry could be anywhere and writing this.

'Do you have time to talk or are you studying?' it wrote.

'Studying? Me. Never,' Draco replied. He smiled and leaned back against the tree.

'I've been thinking a lot. I think it's time I started talking about my own problems instead of just listening to yours. I thought it would make me seem more real. Alright?' the lettering wrote out.

Draco understood. He'd accused them of being just a piece of paper, so they were trying to make themselves seem more humanistic. Silly Harry. Then again, this was a good way to learn about Harry.

'Talk as much as you want,' Draco said. He made himself comfortable and took a deep breath as he began to read.

'There was a time in my life when I was seriously fighting my feelings for you. I fought so much to be a normal guy that I let a silly crush cloud my vision. I obsessed over it. In the end, I dated this crush, but I realized she only liked me cause I reminded her of her ex-boyfriend,' Harry wrote. Yes, no more calling it 'them', this was Harry.

'Once I had given up on her, I began to realize more and more how much I liked you. You know, the realization began while I was still with her. I realized I couldn't deny it anymore so I broke it off with her. You have no idea how many problems liking you has caused me, Draco. Honestly, I've need a lot more help with easy homework when it comes to classes you're in,' Harry confessed.

Draco snickered.

'You're an idiot,' he replied.

'Hey! I'm trying to be honest here,' the paper could almost be heard growling.

'No, I just think you could make everything easier on yourself by finding something else to obsess over. I, for instance, obsess over Harry Potter and bettering myself so I can beat him as often as possible,' Draco explained.

'Cause that's so much better,' Harry said sarcastically.. Or.. That's how it sounded to Draco.

'Yes, it is. I like to think of it as how I show my affection,' Draco finished. Then he became curious. He saw a little mark appearing and quickly wrote down his thought. 'How do you show you're affection?'

The little mark paused in being written. Harry must be thinking.

'I hug people,' was the simple response.

Draco was a little surprised. He looked up as he considered if the idea was true or not. Thinking back, Harry did hug his friends a lot... If he did that for friends, think of what he did for girlfriends and boyfriends. Draco looked back down at the paper and found himself even more in shock.

'And you kiss people.'


	11. Chapter 11

Draco glowered. He was leaning against the wood paneling that lined the door into the Entrance Hall from the dungeons. Yes, he was hiding and glaring. He couldn't believe it would be set in front of him so obviously. This made him angrier than he thought. He expected to be overjoyed to know who it was so... easily, with it laid out in front of him like a map. Yet, he was angry. What would make Potter suddenly be so damn obvious?

He supposed he was angry because he was disappointed. It had been nerve wracking, yet exciting, this game of trying to find the writer. It had been entertaining and challenging, making him doubt himself and admit things he'd never wanted to admit. Yet Potter went and did something like this.

'And you kiss people.'

Only Potter would know that! Dammit! He didn't want Potter to make this easy! It was supposed to be a surprise until... well until Harry admitted to being the writer or until Draco called him out on it. Wait, was Harry doing this on purpose to get Draco to call him out about it first?

Not to mention that the rest of the conversation had deviated entirely and was totally about Draco's feelings and ways of expressing them. Harry told Draco things like 'If you really like someone, you can't just wait around for them to act. If you wait too long, they'll be snatched away by someone else.' and 'Communication is key in a relationship.'

Yes. Harry was definitely trying to get Draco to confess first. But why? Harry knew how Draco felt so why didn't the stupid golden boy just come tell Draco how he felt?!

Then again, if it was that easy... why didn't Draco just go tell Harry the same?

Alright! He would! Draco would do just that! He'd march right up to stupid Harry Potter and tell him exactly how he felt!

Draco took a deep breath and took a few steps toward Harry and his friends across the hall. Then Draco paused and hurried back to his corner. He leaned against the wall, just out of sight, and groaned. Who was he kidding? He couldn't just walk up to Harry in the middle of a group of Gryffindors and say 'Hiya, Harry. Just wanted to tell you in person that I love you. Maybe we can meet up later and make out or something!'

Draco groaned again. Stupid Potter. How dare he do this to Draco!?

Harry's laughter echoed across the hall above his friends', at least to Draco's ears. The Slytherin pouted. This just wasn't fair. Harry was going to laugh at Draco's pain, and he didn't even know Draco was having a problem! Stupid Potter.

– – – –

'I just wanted to let you know that I'm trying really, really hard,' Draco wrote on the paper later on. By the time Harry read it, however, it was Care of Magical Creatures class, a good hour or two later. He only noticed it because he opened his bag, and it hopped out to smack him in the face. He was almost thankful his bag had kept it from doing that earlier.

'What do you mean?' Harry wrote back. Draco was in Charms. He wrinkled his nose at the parchment.

'I mean with telling Potter my feelings. It's damn hard!' Draco complained, and Harry could hear his frustration through the paper.

'Look out the window. It'll make you feel better,' came the scribbled response. Draco raised an eyebrow. What did that mean? The blonde glanced out the window and was shocked to find it snowing again. The best part, however, was the rainbow caused by the sun reflecting off snow.

Draco hid a laugh in his throat and turned it into a cough. Crabbe and Goyle thought nothing of it. Blaise offered a curious look before returning to work. At least he seemed to care more. Then again, he also had more of a brain. Draco glanced down at the white coated grounds and spotted the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in their Care of Magical Creatures class. This made him smile a little.

'You're right. It did make me feel better. By the way, how are the Snow Pigeons handling? I heard the giant, Hagrid, caught a whole flock for classes,' Draco wrote. He hoped Potter fell into his trap.

'Pretty good, I suppose. He looks like a snowman with all the bird poop on him, though. Other than that, they're rather neat,' Harry wrote back.

Good. That's what Draco was looking for. Harry had just admitted to Draco that he was in Hagrid's class right now, because he was using the present tense in everything. Draco looked down at the class again. He saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled around some birds. Ron flinched away and fell down, causing the other two to laugh. Harry was holding the parchment in his hands, rolled up.

'I love Potter,' Draco wrote rather randomly.

Down in class Harry glanced around the windows in the castle, but Draco had moved away by now. That last message was almost like an 'I love you', as if Draco could see him right now. If Draco was following the obvious hints, it would make sense that the Slytherin Prince would have figured out it was Harry by now - without any doubts, especially after Hermione had said so much to him that day...

But Harry couldn't see Draco at all. Oh well. It was almost Christmas. It was almost time for Harry to put his plan into action. If Draco acted ahead of Harry's schedule, that was cool too. Still, he was having fun playing with the idea of this little plan. Oh! He better make sure Draco was staying at school during Christmas.

'Are you staying at Hogwarts for Christmas?' he ask Draco.

'Are you?' Draco asked back.

'Yea. My family is busy during Christmas,' Harry half lied. Busy, yes. Busy with Dudley.

'Then I suppose I'll stay too. Besides, Potter never goes home for Christmas. It'll be fun,' Draco replied and sounded suave even on paper.

Harry smiled. Wonderful.

"Harry, pay attention to the birds. Stop writing love notes," Ron whined.

"Love notes?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you think they're love notes?"

"Well you always smile really goofy when you're writing them and you have Hermione check them over. That means they must be love notes cause you're getting help from a girl! And what's worse is, you wont tell me who it is!" Ron complained.

"Don't worry, Ronald. He hasn't got a girlfriend or anything. You're still his best friend. He's still Harry. Nothing wrong with Harry expressing his feelings on paper," Hermione said with a smile. Ron blushed and looked away from her. Aw, young love.

"Yeah, Ron. It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Harry insisted with a little shrug as if to shrug off any suspicion.

"Whatever...," Ron mumbled, avoiding both their gazes. Hermione just giggled a little and pet one of the snow pigeons.

Harry glanced up at windows once more before beginning class work. He still couldn't see Draco due to the glares on the windows. When Christmas came around, Draco would get a letter. It wouldn't be like the parchment. In fact, Harry wasn't going to touch the parchment on Christmas Eve or Christmas. He was just going to wait until Draco got his letter attached to his package under his tree... or whatever they had in the dungeons.

Yes. This was merely step one of Harry's grand master plan.


	12. Chapter 12

Christmas. Only a week till Christmas. That didn't leave Harry much time to work. Draco was making abnormally fast progress, however. He was telling the paper more detailed ideas now. Just the other day, Harry was privileged enough to be told a dream in which Draco watched Harry for hours before gathering the courage to tell him how he felt. Draco didn't tell Harry all the details, like the way he felt during the sweet embrace after his confession or how he'd taken control of the dream and kissed Harry like he was oxygen itself.

No, Draco wasn't brave enough to tell Harry EVERYTHING that went on in his little fantasies. For now, just the basics would do. He was still trying to figure out what Harry's overall goal was with this paper. He knew Harry wanted him to confess openly, but... the paper wasn't urging him to do it at any specific time or place. In fact, it just asked him basic questions most of the time, and Draco just answered. There was no hinting or nudging, no way for Draco to figure anything out.

Harry still talked about his day to day life so that Draco no long thought he was a piece of paper. Then again, Draco didn't need anymore clues to know it was Harry. It was so obvious now. They wrote to each other even when they were in the same class, and though they were both being creatively sneaky about it, they could both tell the other was doing it now. Neither of them knew they were being so obvious to the other, but it didn't matter. It was like a flirtatious game of tag... using paper.

Today, Harry was walking down the halls toward his next class, and Draco was following behind him. He had his usual gang of Slytherins behind him. They were all headed to potions. Draco then smirked. He had the cleverest little idea as how to show Harry he was interested and flirting.

The blonde slytherin sped up his pace a little, managing to keep his 'I'm better than you' aura despite the speed. Harry was joking freely with Ron and Hermione when Draco slammed their arms together, almost knocking Harry over. Draco spun around and walked backwards for a second. Harry noticed that little playful spark in Draco's eyes.

"Watch where you're walking, Potter. Wouldn't want you getting injured," Draco called back in a cocky, smug, and upset tone that he normally scolded Harry with. He even managed a sneer.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning. Hermione had a bit of a confused look on due to the looks on both their faces. She obviously didn't see the little transfer of emotions right there. Ron looked upset.

"Rotten jerk," Ron grumbled. "Doesn't he have anything better to do besides pick on you?"

"Probably not," Harry replied with a smile.

"What are you grinning for?" Ron asked curiously. Harry smiled wider. Poor Ronald.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said with a little laugh.

Truth be told, Harry was still a little worried about letting Ron in on this little secret. He had such a grudge against Draco and didn't seem to have any room left for possible friendships with the blonde. Not to mention, how did Ron feel about homosexuality? Well his brothers were incestuously gay.. Oh, but Ron didn't know that either. Harry only knew because he'd caught them making out in an empty classroom - which was a funny story.

Harry had forgotten something in his last class, and when he opened the door to get it - poof! There they were in all their glory. Those little goof balls were so into each other they didn't even notice Harry until he cleared his throat.

'Harry, you can't tell anyone - especially not Mum and Dad!'

'And don't tell Ron, either! Harry, can we trust you?'

They'd looked so desperate that he couldn't even manage to speak for awhile and just found himself nodding until he found his voice. He'd never seen them so passionate about anything else besides playing tricks on people. Not to mention, those frightened, desperate looks were just... They shouldn't be on the Weasley twins' faces. It just wasn't right. He had to agree, especially since he was gay too.

Come to think of it, did they know about Harry and Draco? Or.. That made it sound like they were already together, and they weren't. Okay.. Did they know about Harry's feelings for Draco? Probably not. He should probably find a way to tell them. Were they staying for Christmas? If not, today was his last chance to tell them.

"Class dismissed. Go home and have a very Merry Christmas, all of you!" Professor Flitwick cheered, clapping his hands twice.

The class erupted into cheers as well. Whoa. Where had the day gone? Harry looked around while he gathered his things. The rest of the class was packing up, even the Slytherins looked unusually pleased. He must have been daydreaming a lot more than he'd thought he was. Oh well, nothing bad seemed to have happened.

When Harry opened his bag, the roll of parchment sprang up and smacked him over the back of the head. He nearly fell over in shock, but managed to catch himself by grabbing the desk. He snatched the paper before it could hit him again and groaned. He needed to make it stop doing that.

"Heya, Harry. I was wondering... Why does that piece of parchment keep hitting you? I thought it was a paper you wrote your feelings down on, but sometimes I see it smacking you in the face. That's a bit odd, ya know? What's the deal?" Ron asked, still trying to get answers.

"Ron," Harry sighed, "It's enchanted parchment that I made Hermione help me invent so that I could write down my feelings and help myself. The thing hitting me is a mistake and will soon be corrected, I swear," he explained.

He was getting irritated by the constant whacks over the head. He was happy that Draco kept writing to him, but the lumps on his head kept reminding him of the price he paid to be reminded of Draco's feelings.

'You're daydreaming too much,' the paper read. Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion.

'Where's your parchment?' it said under that.

'You're going to get a nasty headache when you find these notes,' Draco finished.

Well, at least he knew Draco understood he was the writer. Now Draco was watching Harry and commenting on his life, instead of Harry doing it to Draco, which is what the paper was meant for. Harry snickered at the idea. Oh how the tables have been turned.

"That's not your handwriting," Ron's voice spoke up. Harry jumped and pulled the paper away.

"Wh-what?" he asked, rolling it up quickly and slipping it into his bag.

"I said that wasn't your handwriting, Harry. And you laughed about what it said! And it wasn't even about feelings! It was talking about you daydreaming, and it knew you were going to get hit! What kind of parchment is that, Harry? And who's handwriting was that?" Ron asked angrily.

Harry was up and walking from the classroom mid-Ron rant. Ron didn't stop that rant until they were up a floor. He grunted as Harry ignored him.

"Harry!" Ron demanded.

"It's nothing important. Don't worry about it!" Harry strongly insisted. They were almost up to the common room. The staircases were being awfully cooperative today.

"What's so secret that you can't tell your best mate, huh? Why can Hermione know, but not me? You not trust me or something?" Ron asked, adding a hurt tone to his questions. Harry stopped on the next floor and sighed. He moved aside so passing students wouldn't hit them. Ron watched him eagerly.

"It's not like that, Ron," Harry replied.

"Then what is it like, Harry?" Ron asked, crossing his arms indignantly. Harry sighed. He had no way around this.

"It's... it's like a walkie talkie or... or a phone... um... it's like... It's like talking through fireplaces, but without the fireplace and without the voice," Harry tried explained. Ron stared at him like he was an idiot. Harry sighed again. "It's like writing notes to someone, but they're not within note passing distance. I write on this paper and somewhere else in the castle, someone else is writing back to me. It appears on my paper, I read it, and I write back. Get it?"

"Yeah, I think... but why does it hit you in the head? Who's the other writer? And why was that so secretive that you couldn't tell me?" Ron asked.

"If I get a note and I'm not paying attention or I'm sleeping, the parchment bounces up to alert me to the message," Harry explained. He turned and continued walking up the stairs. Oh where was Hermione and a clever subject change?

"Harry? Harry! Who's the other writer?" Ron continued to ask as they came to the portrait of the fat lady.

"It's no one important," Harry said, hurriedly spinning out the password. It went by almost too fast to understand, but the lady understood him well enough and swung open.

"Who could be the other writer that makes you not want to tell me?" Ron asked. "What? Is it Draco Malfoy or something?"

"Exactly," a female voice spoke up. Oh, Hermione. Wait. Had she just said what Harry thought she'd said?

"What?" Ron asked, half unsure he'd heard her and half unsure he wanted to. Harry gave her an exasperated look.

"You're talking about the parchment, right?" the brunette girl asked.

Ron nodded. There were only three other people in the common room, and they were distracted by grabbing some personal effects and getting through tearful goodbyes. You'd think they were saying goodbye forever!

"Harry and I created that parchment so Harry could talk to Draco without all the smug and proud insults Draco throws around to sound cool," Hermione explained. "It's been rather fruitful, actually. Draco isn't so mean when you talk to him one on one."

"Oh... really... Wait!" Ron nearly shouted, gaining the other students' attentions. "Don't look over here, you dolts!" he ordered them. They glowered a little but returned to ignoring the three friends by the front door.

"What's with all this 'Draco' stuff? Since when did you start calling him by his first name?" Ron asked.

"Since Harry started calling him Draco," Hermione replied simply.

"And when did you start calling him Draco?" Ron asked, turning on Harry. Harry smiled weakly and slumped his shoulders. He had no choice. He was backed into a corner here.

"Since I started crushing on him," he replied honestly and quietly, so that no one else would hear.


	13. Chapter 13

Ronald Weasley was sitting in a chair, a big comfy chair, in front of the Gryffindor common room's fireplace. He was staring at where the fireplace met the carpet. His eyes seemed unfocused, and his body language said he was confused and tense.

"Ronald?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. The other students were gone from the common room now. They were probably packing. "Are you angry?"

"No...," Ron murmured. "Well.. Yes... I mean... Why couldn't I know?"

"He was just worried you wouldn't accept him," Hermione explained gently, kneeling down beside the redhead.

"He wasn't worried about you not accepting it," Ron pointed out. Oh dear. Was he jealous of that?

"Well... Maybe he thought I'd take it easier because I'm a girl," Hermione suggested. "Either way, you know now. What will you do about it?"

Ron sighed. He glanced over his shoulder. Harry was sitting at a table on the other side of the room, looking dejected. After his little confession, Ron had gone white with shock and had to be helped to a chair by Hermione. Harry was too scared to touch him. He couldn't help but wonder if this was going to ruin his friendship with the Weasley's youngest son.

'I... I'm nervous,' Harry's handwriting stood out against the pale brown parchment color.

'About what?' Draco asked.

'I told my best friend I was gay. He went white and hasn't said anything to me in almost ten minutes,' Harry explained.

'Oh,' was all Draco could come up with in reply. He needed to say something else. How could he comfort Harry? All he could think of were slightly degrading comments or a bit rude. He needed something sweet or at least a little nice.

'I'm nervous that he might stop being my friend,' Harry wrote. Draco noticed that Harry's handwriting was coming up slower than normal, and the quill writing down these words seemed to be dragging more than normal.

'If he's not an idiot, he'll still be your friend. You said 'best friend', didn't you?' Draco pointed out. Harry sighed.

'Yeah. I hope so,' he replied. If Ron stopped liking him because of this, it would be the worst Christmas present ever. He'd probably give up on his master plan with Draco too, just out of depression. He really hoped Ron wouldn't hate him over this.

"Hey," Ron's semi-deep voice spoke up nearby him. Harry didn't even try to cover or hide the parchment this time. He looked up at Ron with a slightly hopeful expression.

"Hey," he replied. He put his quill up and moved the parchment aside. Ron followed it with his eyes.

"Yeah... so... I'm sorry," Ron muttered out. Harry's expression became one of confusion.

"What are you apologizing for?" he asked. Ron scratched his cheek.

"Well... I'm supposed to be your best friend, the first person you go to when you have an evil plot or a problem. I suppose this sorta counts as both, but you felt like you couldn't talk to me about it. And that's sorta my fault so... I'm sorry," Ron explained. He was embarrassed, Harry could tell. He knew Ron had never been in a situation like this before. Harry smiled.

"Well?" Harry asked, wondering what this meant about Ron's feelings toward the 'evil plot' of the parchment.

"Well I guess... I'll try not to hate Malfoy as much, and I can't guarantee that I'll be able to stop calling him Malfoy. But! You have to tell me when some new development comes up. Like... Hermione said Malfoy isn't the same jerk he is in public when you're talkin to him on the paper so... like... what's he like?" Ron asked. Ah, so he was interested. Good. Good.

"He hates a lot of his friends. He loves the snow. He's a nervous wreck when it comes to feelings, and he loves me," Harry briefly explained.

"Oh, then I guess he really isn't as big a jerk on paper as he is in...what now?" Ron asked. The carrot topped wizard leaned in close to Harry, staring right into his eyes. Harry laughed lightly.

"Just what I said. I asked Draco who he loved and he said 'I love Harry Potter.' No lie," Harry said, trying to lean away from the fierce gaze.

"Remember when you asked Harry for paper and he tripped while pulling some out? It was because he was pulling out this parchment at the same time. He saw Draco's answer and didn't watch where he was stepping. That's why he fell over into the snow," Hermione informed the poor left out red head.

– – – – –

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was in his common room, fretting. Why? Because he'd just realized... he was staying behind at the castle during Christmas, against his family's wishes, because of Harry Potter. He realized he didn't even have any idea what Harry might want for Christmas, which meant he didn't have a gift for Harry... at all... in the slightest.

What the heck?! He couldn't do that. He had to think of some kind of gift. A gift that would show that he cared, but wasn't too romantic and mushy gushy. It had to have that Draco Malfoy edge to it or it just wasn't worth it. What was he going to do?

Oh, but random happy thought. He was rather pleased with his flirting today. Harry responded nicely too, even though he didn't say anything. This was shaping up to a beautiful day.

Except that Draco didn't have a gift idea.

Maybe he could ask Harry through the paper what he'd want. No. Harry was having his own issues right now. It would be inconsiderate, ultimately rude, and tactless to ask him about Christmas presents while his idiot of a best friend was causing him so much torment. Ah. Maybe he could curse Weasley tomorrow... Just a little one.. Okay, at least a little one. But that still didn't help him with the whole 'Harry's Christmas gift' issue.

Think Draco. There had to be something he hinted to wanting in all the note passing... Ugh. Draco did most of the personal talking. This would be hard. Oh well. Draco sat in front of his parchment while everyone else was in their rooms, packing. Draco's wand kept tapping the parchment while he thought. If only he could remember things Harry had said about his personal life... besides his business with some random girl and her issues with her ex-boyfriend.

On that note, how could anyone use Harry to think of someone else? That was plain rude and plain stupid. Harry Potter was impossible to forget, and how anyone could think of some other guy while staring into Harry's deep green orbs was beyond Draco's comprehension.

Eh?

The parchment had words on it, but he'd read these before. This was a conversation from yesterday. Draco rolled his wand in his hand like he'd been doing for the last 5 minutes. It tapped the parchment and curved toward Draco. Then it stopped up in the air, held by Draco's fingers. The words had moved again, as if scrolling back through the conversations. Draco's lips curved into a smirk.

Harry and Hermione had definitely outdone themselves. They should sell this little idea to those Weasley twins who wanted to open a joke shop. It was magnificent. Then again, that would limit the amount of owls, which would get rid of mail - which people enjoyed so much. Not to mention that people would need one for everyone they knew, and that might get complicated when looking for the right person or for a spare bit of parchment. Never mind. Draco was fine with this being the only set of this parchment in the world.

Draco began to scroll through the words with fierce determination. He would definitely find something in their conversations that would lead to a Christmas gift. No doubt about it.

– – – – – –

Harry couldn't sleep that night. He kept thinking about how Ron kept reacting to everything they told him. It was funny and such a relief. When he saw the twins at breakfast, he'd have to tell them Ron accepted him. Maybe he wouldn't object to them the way they thought he would. Mostly what he thought about was Draco. He couldn't wait until Christmas Eve. Actually, starting tomorrow, his master plan could go into action at anytime. They'd be some of the few people left in the castle. Actually, if it was anything like some of the previous years, it was possible they would be two of maybe only 3 or 4 students to stay behind. That would make it unbearably easy to tell who the other writer was, aching-ly hard not to just jump Draco mid-hallway, and a little difficult to find each other among the large grounds and endless halls.

Harry smiled. But they'd be alone together. They had the parchment, and Harry had the Marauder's Map if he needed to find Draco that badly. If nothing happened by Christmas Eve, Harry would need that map. With a deserted campus, it would be much easier for them to, ahem, get to know each other better.

Harry took a deep breath and, without planning to, fell asleep upon releasing it. His body felt so relaxed, his head so full, that he just drifted away into dreams. It was late, but his dreams were thrilling and made his heart race. It was just him and Draco tomorrow. He couldn't wait.


	14. Chapter 14

"So you see? Ron accepted me as being gay, so maybe he wont be so upset to find out you guys are too," Harry said after dragging the twins away from the crowds early the next morning.

"Ah... So you fudged up somehow and Ron found out you were a fruit fly," George nodded.

"So you think he'll react the same way to family being like that," Fred added.

"Well, yeah. He should love you guys more than me, so he should accept you more as well," Harry explained. The twins eyed each other and seemed to consider it.

"I suppose anything is possible," Fred said and shrugged.

"Yeah. You never know with little Ronnie," George snickered. Fred almost snorted at the nickname. Harry couldn't help but grin too.

"All students heading home, make your way to the carriages immediately!" a loud, magically enhanced voice called over the crowd. Harry was almost certain that it was Snape.

"Well then, we'll be seein you, mate," George said and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Yeah. See you guys after Christmas. And make sure to send me a present!" Harry laughed.

"And you be sure to give little Draco a kiss for us, yeah?" Fred teased and poked Harry in the nose.

Harry blushed and wrinkled his nose. Both of the twins laughed as they hurried to catch up with other massing students. Harry watched them for a moment. They sure stuck out in the crowd - two identical mops of red hair. They were bloody brilliant too. He hadn't even said who he liked, and they knew it instantly when they heard he was gay as well. They were so much fun though, and definitely trustworthy with big secrets like this. He wouldn't trade them out for anyone... ever.

"I'm going to miss you so much!" Hermione whined as she gave Harry the strongest hug ever.

"It's only for about a week, Hermione," Ron reminded. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder - the only part Hermione wasn't monopolizing. "Good luck, mate. Happy Christmas."

"You too," Harry said with a smile. Then Harry looked at Hermione or... the top of her head, at least. "Hermione, you're going to miss the train," he warned.

"Oh... yes. Well... Happy Christmas," she said and kissed him on the cheek. "You best write me if anything big happens, and you have to meet us when we get back from vacation."

"Of course," Harry laughed. "Now hurry up and go."

"Bye!" Hermione exclaimed and hurried away before she decided to stay and keep Harry company. Ron didn't say anything. He just waved and gave a hopefully encouraging smile before heading for the doors.

Harry knew Ron meant well. He just didn't know what to say. Ron wasn't really good with words, but then again... who was besides liars and con-men?

Anyway, with them gone, Harry was filled with a sense of nervousness, a jittery feeling. In a matter of moments, he'd be alone in the castle with Draco and the few teachers who stayed behind as well. It was Christmas jitters and romantic jitters. If Draco did as Harry hoped he would, they may be a couple by Christmas. Oh dear, the excitement.

Draco was the same way, sitting in the Great Hall. He was so nervous, so excited, so thrilled that he was shaking. He clasped his hands together and tried to force himself to stop. Nothing stopped. Draco's stomach felt funny because of the way his body was shaking.

"You should go put another coat on, Draco," Blaise suggested. He swung a messenger bag over his shoulder. "You can't catch a cold during Christmas break."

"Thanks, Blaise. I'll go get one as soon as the hall clears," Draco replied with a nod. "I'll be run over if I try to go now."

"Right. Well good luck. See you after Christmas," Blaise said and walked away from his blonde friend.

Eh? Good luck? Did Blaise somehow know? No. No way. Draco hadn't said or done anything to make his house mates suspect anything, so Blaise couldn't possibly know. He was probably commenting on something else... like the fact that Draco's father had wanted him home, or the homework Draco had obviously not done... or something else, but definitely not on the fact that this was his only chance to confront Harry about his feelings.

Of course not that.

About ten minutes later, Draco shuffled out of the Great Hall. He wasn't hungry at all, and he now had nothing to do. As if to taunt him, upon entering the Entrance Hall, he spotted Harry Potter walking up the grand staircase. Oh great.

Should he go after him? Nah. He... He probably had something important to do. Like what, Draco? Get real. He's just as bored and open as you are. This may be your best chance to talk to him. Move it, or you'll lose him!

Draco took a deep breath and rushed for the stairs. He tried to keep as silent as possible, still unsure of exactly what to say once he finally got Harry's attention. He should try to avoid his usual sarcastic and mean remarks. That wouldn't be a good way to start a conversation where he was going to confess his feelings.

"How long do you intend to follow me?"

Draco snapped out of his thoughts. He noticed Harry had stopped walking, and they were closer to each other than he had meant to be. Draco backed off a step. Harry tilted his head curiously. Draco acted like he'd been stung or something.

"You were following me, right?" Harry asked. He turned to face Draco completely. Draco clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

"Brilliant, Potter. Pretty full of yourself, aren't you? Why would I ever follow you?!" he half snarled out. With that said, Draco turned around and stalked off as quickly as he could without running.

He left Harry confused, but he couldn't keep following Harry now. After what he'd just said, anything else would sound annoyed or fake. Gyah! What was wrong with his voice? He should throttle his own neck for that! How come he couldn't keep those snide comments to himself and just be honest with Harry for once when it wasn't on paper?!

Alright... Tomorrow, whether he was ready or not, Draco was going to tell Harry how he felt. He'd walk up to Harry out on the lawns, or in the middle of a hallway, or wherever he may be, and tell him how he felt. He didn't care anymore. He was tired of his pride and his fear getting in the way. He stayed behind on Christmas just to get this done! He wasn't going to chicken out now! It would make everything completely pointless!

Yes. Tomorrow, he'd tell Harry everything... in person.


	15. Chapter 15

'Dear Harry,

My brothers are sending you a letter. Don't eat the chocolate.

\- Ron'

Harry regarded the paper curiously. What on earth? Then again, he better heed the warning. He didn't feel like being a test subject for their new inventions. As if on cue, another owl landed on his windowsill. Harry took the package it carried away from it and pet it. He set another little bowl of water on the table for it. The two snow covered owls sat on the Gryffindor table, lapping up the water noisily.

Harry set the box of chocolates aside and flipped open the letter.

'Dearest Harry,

Happy Christmas Eve. Hope you're feeling well this fine morning. We do-ly hope your excursions in love have been fruitful and that everything has gone perfectly for you. We send a box of perfectly natural, wonderful, muggle chocolate to you to go with your no doubt perfect vacation.'

Oh dear. Had they told Ron about their relationship and been shot down?

'We'd like to let you know that Ronald has been informed of our relationship. It will make you happy to hear that your advice was well given, and we have been accepted with open arms - after he got over the shock. We assume your experience was similar as he babbled on about you for a good twenty minutes that we could have been snogging during. So we hope you accept this package and think of all the privacy you've stolen from us as you eat it. May your vacation continue to be bountiful and not Ron filled.'

Harry understood the issue now, and it made him laugh. The signature was the funniest though. 'Fred and George Weasley' was crossed out and replaced with 'George and Fred Weasley' which was crossed out and replaced with 'Your favorite twins' and a 'p.s. remember to use protection.'

Stupid twins. Harry and Draco weren't even together yet and these two were already talking about sex... and use protection? Was that the best they could come up with? Guys couldn't 'use protection' and have it do anything useful anyway! But at least it was funny.

A flap of wings caught his attention and he watched as both owls took off out the window again. He waved a little and picked up all the mail he'd received today - the two letters and a daily prophet. Draco hadn't come to see him yet. The last time he'd spoken to Draco was in the hallway the day everyone left. He'd walked around in the open, giving Draco plenty of chances to come and maul him or kiss him or something, but nothing had happened yet. To make matters worse, it was Christmas Eve - if you didn't get that from the letter. What was making Draco dawdle so long?

The castle was mostly empty. The only ones left were Dumbledore, two teachers Harry had never met nor seen, a Hufflepuff, Harry and Draco. To make matters better, if Draco didn't know who the parchment writer was yet, the Hufflepuff was a boy their age. Although, Harry was pretty sure Draco knew everything now.

The gryffindor male strolled down the stairs and was happy to report that all the stairs were being nice, perhaps because it was the holiday season and all. He was in an oddly good mood, considering Draco hadn't made a move. If all else failed, his letter would be sent off tonight, and his master plan could be put in to motion.

Harry's master plan? He wrote a little letter to Draco that gave him directions to the Quidditch field. If Draco needed a time and place to confess his feelings, this would give him the option. The letter said Harry needed to talk to him about something... so Draco may make Harry start the wheel, but Harry would make sure Draco ended it.

Harry stepped out onto the lawns, the graceful snow falling on him. Draco could see him. He was hunched over to keep himself warmer. He stood under a tree near the stairs to the owlry. Draco had been watching Harry for at least an hour a day. One day, he found himself too sick with nervousness to even get out of the dungeons. That day, he only had a chance to see Harry during dinner, and he'd left much too soon.

Harry must be worried, but he didn't show it. He was even smiling. Draco watched as Harry caught snowflakes and examined the footprints he'd left in the snow. Did he have any idea he was being watched? Knowing Harry, probably. Harry was like a young version of Dumbledore. He sometimes seemed to know everything! Draco wondered if that was just an outsiders view. How was Harry's outward aura when you were a close friend?

Draco almost decided to go talk to Harry when the brunette turned and hurried across the lawns. Draco's eyes widened, and he rushed after Harry. The green eyed boy was running toward Hagrid's hut. Ah. The big oaf was outside and waving to Harry. That must be why Harry took off so suddenly. Before he could be spotted among the white snow, Draco darted away and out of sight. He didn't need to follow Harry anymore. He knew where Harry was going and had no desire to be poked fun at for following Harry like some lost puppy.

Draco leaned against the nearest wall, out of sight of Hagrid's hut. He sighed and leaned his head against the cold stone of the wall. It felt good, but he better be careful not to stick to it like tongues to ice cubes. Draco had never had such an experience and often wondered if it was a truly possible event. Could one actually get their tongue stuck to something if it was too cold? Draco didn't know because he'd never done it himself, but he wasn't so curious as to try right now... or at all. If he was THAT curious, he'd turn his head a little and lick the wall, but he could get sick doing that... He shivered at the very idea.

"Draco?"

Draco jumped away from the wall. Once again, Harry Potter had managed to catch him off guard. Damn. Then Draco stopped for a moment and thought. What had Harry just called him?

"W-what?" Draco asked, trying to repair his demeanor.

"I asked if you were okay. You had a weird look on your face," Harry explained. Draco shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said. "And I don't need you to look out for me, Potter. I can take care of myself. Mind your own business."

Damn. He was being a jerk again! Stupid preset mind set! He really needed to work on that! Harry regarded him as though a little disappointed and then began to walk away. He shrugged a little.

"Alright. See you later," Harry said. It seemed he'd have to resort to his 'master plan' after all.

"W-Wait. Harry, wait!" Draco called out after Harry got a good four feet away.

Harry turned and looked at Draco curiously. Draco had just called him by his first name. Not to mention, he seemed to be getting up the courage to do something. Maybe... Harry wouldn't need that master plan?

"Yeah?" Harry asked, acting completely innocent, that jerk.

"C-Come here for a second," Draco ordered, his voice only faltering in his nervousness. He motioned for Harry to walk back toward him, and Harry did.

"What is it?" Harry asked. Draco closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes.

Before letting out his breath, Draco grabbed Harry's wrist and pushed the gryffindor up against the cold wall. Draco kissed Harry, the cold from both their lips mingling. It was an odd feeling. He pulled back for a moment and saw Harry's expression. It was both pleased and surprised. Draco took that as a good sign and kissed him again. This time, Harry met him halfway, and they deepened the kiss with their tongues. Harry's hands were all over Draco's neck and face - the only parts of Draco not covered in his winter cloak. Draco was the same way toward Harry, and Harry wondered for a split second if they resembled the Weasley twins at all right now - passionate and distracted by each other.

Draco broke the heated kisses, panting. His face was flushed, as was Harry's. Their lips were a bright red now, no longer dimmed in color by the cold. They were slowly returning to normal, however. Draco pressed his lips together. His heart was swelling like a balloon being constantly filled with air. Finally he opened his mouth.

"Harry, I love you!" he declared, echoing dully off the snow.


	16. Chapter 16

"Harry, I love you!" Draco declared and echoed dully off the snow. Draco was breathing heavily, his face flushed in both embarrassment and plain heat. His hair was ruffled and out of place due to Harry's hands, and over all, Draco Malfoy looked like he'd just been molested and had run away. The pitiful look of his face and attire was simply adorable and maybe Harry want to just envelop him in a big hug, protect him.

He shouldn't think that, though. Draco Malfoy didn't need a lot of protection. Yes, the guy was a chicken is dire situations, but Harry was sure that if his life really depended on it, Draco could put up a fight... especially if his pride was at stake.

Finally, Harry smiled. Draco's breath hitched. His heart swelled. He'd been waiting for what felt like forever. His pathetic echo had died and every second seemed like a lifetime... and then Harry smiled. Draco was suddenly aware of the sound of birds and water, the sound of a pile of snow falling off a window somewhere and hitting the ground. It was like life had been turned up a decibel.

"Draco," Harry spoke, and the world returned to its normal sound intensity. Draco clenched one fist and took a half step back.

"Y-Yeah?" he asked. He was still nervous about Harry's reaction despite the smile that Harry had given him.

"Nothing," Harry said with a shrug. "Just that I was beginning to think you'd never say it."

Draco felt his lips twitch toward a smile, and then Harry was kissing him lightly. It wasn't passionate or heated, but it was expressive. Draco smiled, and his eyes followed Harry as the dark haired boy walked around him.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, following after the younger male.

"Heh. I have some chocolates up in my dorm. I have a feeling they're tainted with something that would push us both over the edge," Harry explained. The hidden message was that he needed to go get rid of them before he decided to use them. Draco snickered and grabbed Harry's wrist.

"Well don't trash them now. They could be useful," Draco said. Harry blushed and his expression turned into shock.

"Draco!" He scolded. Was Draco being perverted now that everything was out in the open? Draco flicked him in the nose. Why was everyone doing that?!

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Harry. It's for revenge. You give the chocolates right back to them, and it'll all backfire in their faces. Then you can see exactly what those chocolates do," Draco pointed out. Harry snorted.

"My my, you're conniving," Harry teased and flicked Draco back in the nose. Then he flipped his wrist around and held Draco's hand in his own. He pulled Draco into the castle.

"It's a talent, honed over a lifetime," Draco replied proudly. Harry just laughed.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Harry swallowed what was left of his chocolate frog and sighed. He leaned back, the sun dancing off his face through the leaves of the tree and reflecting off the snow.

"They say that you get older when you sigh," Draco warned, running his fingers through Harry's hair. Ha ha. Harry was laying in the snow beside him, but they'd laid out two matts to make sure they didn't get soaked because of the snow.

"Nah. Those rules don't apply to good sighs," Harry countered.

"Touche," Draco said.

Harry had brought down four boxes of chocolate that he'd received for Christmas and had shared them with Draco. That's how they ended up out here, under a snow covered tree, on Christmas morning. Technically, it was probably just past noon, but it didn't matter. It started out in the morning, and the chocolate was their lunch. How nourishing.

Harry was wearing his annual Christmas sweater under his coat. Draco was wearing a sweater as well, but his wasn't hand made. On any other given Christmas, Draco probably would have poked fun at Harry and Ron for wearing those 'silly, moth eaten, hand-me-down sweaters', but this year Draco didn't have to be boastful. He could respect the sweater and all the work that went into it... because Harry was the one wearing it.

Suddenly, an owl tumbled into the snow beside them. Harry sat up like a bolt of lightning only to find the owl was Errol. He shook his head in pity and helped the poor old thing up. Draco regarded Errol like the owl was going to infect him with it's wimpy-ness. Once upright, Errol dropped his letter and then wriggled out of Harry's grip. The sickly looking owl flew up and out of sight, using a zigzag path.

"A letter for me?" Harry asked, wondering why it wasn't just under the tree like all the other letters of congratulation.

"Well open it," Draco rushed him, looking over his shoulder.

'Dear Harry,

Did you change Fred and George's messed up chocolate into chocolate frogs? As soon as they ate the frogs you sent, they were both shrunk to the size of dolls! It was brilliant! They only just resized. Mom kept babbling about how you got your hands on such a thing, until I told her about them sending you chocolate of course. Now she's more angry at them than you.

Thanks for the Cannons stuff and the box of untainted chocolate. Hope everything's going well for you too. Though nothing can be funnier than this Christmas right here.

See you soon,

Ron'

"You sent the revenge chocolate out already?" Draco asked. "And in the forms of chocolate frogs? How did you do that?"

"Hey," Harry said, sounding a little offended. "You're talking to the guy who came up with 'The Parchment' idea and then helped create it. You doubt my ability?"

Draco snickered.

"Of course not, oh great Potter. I could never doubt your skills," the blonde responded, almost like some sort of innuendo.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, leaning in toward Draco with a big smile. His eyes were glinting, and Draco loved it.

"Yeah," Draco replied, voice a little softer.

He closed the small gap between them and claimed Harry's lips. Harry's smile transferred into the kiss, and they both nearly fell apart in laughter at it's effect. It made the kiss clumsy and unrefined, just like it was supposed to be. Harry pulled away from the kiss and couldn't stop a few giggles about it. Draco just smiled at him in that Malfoy way. He leaned close to Harry, his mouth by Harry's ear.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," he whispered. Harry sighed happily again.

"Happy Christmas, Draco."


	17. Chapter 17

"Harry!" two loud voices yelled in unison. Harry Potter spun around, only to be tackled to the floor by two larger bodies. They slid a little across the snow before stopping. Harry hardly had time to register who or what had hit him before the rambling began.

"That was bloody brilliant, Harry."

"Yeah, a real fine piece of work."

"How did you come up with that?"

"Chip off the old block, ey?"

"Ey! Ey!" they both said in unison, stressing it a little each time.

"I'm brilliant.. Now get off. I can't breathe," Harry whined. The two Weasley twins chuckled and picked themselves up off the ground, along with Harry. Each grabbed an arm and ripped him to his feet.

"Honestly, Harry. Turning our own inventions against us was fantastic," Fred said.

"Really great stuff. We didn't mind though. We got to see first hand what it was like to be no taller than one of Ginny's dolls," George added. Both were grinning like idiots.

"They ate more of their creations later and made Ginny's dolls their prom dates," Ron piped in.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed and hugged Ron like they'd been apart for years.

They were all standing just outside the doors into the Entrance Hall. Returning students ran past them to meet with friends in the Great Hall before dinner began. Harry found himself feeling warm, despite being wet from the snow and out where more could fall on him. He was surrounded by three fiery red heads. They all supported him, and he supported them. There were just two things missing...

"Harry!" Hermione's voice sounded out. She rushed over and hugged him. Harry almost fell over again, but he was caught by one of the twins from behind.

"Welcome back, Hermione," Harry greeted. The brown haired girl giggled and turned to Ron. She hugged him too, but not as forcefully. The twins pried her off of Ron and half suffocated her by hugging her at the same time.

In this little group of people off to the side of the entrance steps, Harry counted that now only one thing was missing. Once again, however, he spoke too soon. Two arms snaked their way around Harry's waist, and he felt breath on his ear.

"Having a party and not inviting me, Harry? How cruel," Draco's voice hissed teasingly into Harry's ear. They didn't have to worry about disapproving students seeing them right now. Draco was in the back of the group.

"Of course not," Harry laughed, catching his friends' attentions.

"Ah! When did you get here?" Ron asked, jumping and pointing a little at Draco.

"Pointing is rude, little Ronnie," Fred teased. George leaned on his brother's shoulder and snickered. Ron pouted and glared at them.

"What? Do you not want me here? I can always leave. I can tell when I'm not wanted," Draco said, being totally over dramatic - although it seemed rather natural for Draco. Harry chuckled.

"No. You're fine right where you are," Harry said, pulling Draco around to stand beside him instead of hiding behind him.

"Did you have a good Christmas, Draco?" Hermione asked politely with a big smile. Draco smirked devilishly.

"Of course," he replied like he knew something she didn't.

Of course, nothing overly intimate had happened between Harry and Draco yet. All his friends knew that, because Harry would definitely freak and send them all letters if something like that had actually happened. Still, the way Draco looked and sounded was so convincing. You'd think something naughty had occurred.

"Look, I approve and all but... Could you stop doing that? I've had enough sexuality thrown in my face for one season," Ron groaned and held his head. Harry and the twins laughed, Draco smirked viciously, and Hermione laughed lightly while patting him on the back.

"You'll get used to it," she promised.

"He better," Fred said. "Cause he's surrounded by it."

"Yeah, Ron... Or you could convert and join us. I hear Blaise Zabini is hot to trot," George offered. Ron's face went crooked.

"Oh please. Leave me out of it," Ron half begged, grabbing Hermione's hand unconsciously.

Speaking of Blaise, Draco raised his eyes to the passing crowd. Yep. Blaise was watching him while he walked by, in a very incognito way so that no one else would pay them much attention. Blaise winked at Draco, and Draco blushed. So Blaise HAD known... somehow. Maybe the red headed twin was right. Maybe Blaise was gay too? Who knew? Draco would have to confront him about it later.

"I'm hungry!" George suddenly burst out, standing up straight.

"Yeah!" Fred cheered. Following their lead, the whole group moved toward the big double doors to head inside.

"I'll see you after dinner?" Draco asked.

"Absolutely," Harry replied with a nod. With that, they let go of each other. A few steps later, and several hungry cheers from the twins, the Gryffindors parted from their Slytherin friend and headed to their own table.

Now was the beginning of the hardest year and a half of Harry's life. How to keep a relationship secret from the entire Slytherin house so they wouldn't kick his ass? Oh well. They had the parchment now. It should be easier than it looked. Even if they couldn't be together in public as much as they wanted to be, Harry and Draco could be together while on opposite sides of the castle with Harry's magic parchment.

"Congratulations, Harry!" One of the twins cheered. Harry wasn't looking and didn't know which one it was exactly.

"To the best Christmas eva!" Fred held up his glass of pumpkin juice. Resounding cheers went up, even from their friends who didn't know what had happened to make Christmas so great to the Weasley's and Harry. Across the room, Harry watched Draco raised his glass in a manner that toasted with them without looking like an idiot to his fellow Slytherins.

It seemed Fred had been waiting as well, because with Draco's added glass, Fred downed his own juice. The other Gryffindors followed suit. Harry and Draco made eye contact before drinking theirs together.

Yes. This was the start of the most stressful and exciting year and a half of Harry's life. But whatever... It would be fun.


End file.
